


The Struggle for Existence

by dangerousjade



Category: The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: Backstory, Biology, Blood, Dimitri is my spirit animal, Gen, Missing Scenes, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 02:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerousjade/pseuds/dangerousjade
Summary: Dr. Hoffstetler, evolutionary biology, and some missing scenes that take place during the movie.





	The Struggle for Existence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tyellas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/gifts).



The Asset.  That’s what Strickland kept calling it.  Such a cold, utilitarian moniker for a creature beyond description.  It had not fared much better in Hoffstetler’s reports, labeled as the Devonian, the amphibious biped, possible relative of Boelophthalmus.  None of the classifications were fitting.  He remembered old stories his mother used to tell him, superstitious tales of Rusalka, the women of the water that would drag men down to their deaths.  Those were just magical tales to frighten children.  Dimitri had never believed in magic, but the Asset’s very existence shattered any preconception that he understood the world and how it worked. 

He first caught a glimpse of the creature aboard the ship where it was being held, docked at a port in Galveston.  He had peered through the foggy glass of the makeshift tank, squinting to detect it in the silty, brackish water.  It took a moment before he realized golden eyes were staring back at him.  He started and took a step back as the creature seemed to emerge from the fog, pressing its webbed hands against the glass.  It bore a startling resemblance to a human, both uncannily familiar and at the same time, disturbingly alien.  Its skin glimmered in shades of emerald green and vibrant teal, and the frills around its face slowly furled and unfurled.  It was staring into Hoffstetler’s eyes, studying him with what appeared to be a glimmer of intelligence.         

“Hell of a monster, isn’t it?”  Strickland’s drawl broke the silence.  The creature snarled and pulled back, disappearing into the cloudy water.

_Monster_?  Dimitri could not think of a word further from the truth.     

When he returned to his hotel room, the scientist stared into the bathroom mirror like the Asset had stared at him through the glass walls of its tank.  The face that was reflected was both familiar and utterly alien at the same time.  Was it the face of Dr. Bob Hoffstetler, milquetoast scientist enthralled by a new discovery?   Or was it the face of Dimitri Mosenkov, Soviet spy whose only goal was to report on American secrets?  He looked pale, his hair thinning and his mouth set in a narrow line.  Years of secrecy and living in shadows seemed to have taken a toll on his very soul. 

_Years passed; and he endured the idleness of his intelligence and the inertia of his heart_.  Dimitri recalled the passage bitterly, perturbed by how apt a description it would prove to be for himself.  He remembered first reading it years ago, when he was studying at the University of Moscow.  He spent so many days in his room, alone with his books and drawings while other boys were out playing and partying.  He was happy to be alone then, a young scholar with an insatiable thirst for knowledge.  There were too many books to read, too many facts to devour.  He was so full of hope and curiosity, bursting with a vibrant zeal that the years had whittled down to a sliver.  He laughed through eyes blurry with tears.  So much time wasted.   

Perhaps the Asset could breathe new life into him.  Maybe, after all this was over, he would be able to look into the mirror and recognize himself.  

* * *

 

Dimitri remembered his years teaching at the University of Madison as a bright spot in his otherwise lonely existence.  He thought back fondly to those lecture halls, full of students embarking on their first college course in biology.  The room was lined with wooden chairs filled with bright minds, gazing at him expectantly.  The blackboard was his playground, where he would scribble notes on taxonomy and draw anatomical diagrams.  His hands would be white with chalk by the end of the class period. 

When he stood at the lectern, he was lost in intellectual fervor, swept away by the pleasure of learning and teaching and discovering, and it made him forget.  He forgot that he was so far from home, that these people were his enemies, that he could trust no one.  In those moments, he was neither Russian nor American, but simply a curious man in a very vast world.  There were no boundaries in science, only those put in place by the small-minded.  In those moments, he was truly happy.  They were fleeting, and he was left with a bitter taste in his mouth and a lump in his throat when he remembered. 

“The natural world is a battleground, and each species is the result of a millennia of clashes and skirmishes, wars fought and won to create the creature you see before you today,” he would tell his students.  “That battle is within every single one of you, epic poetry written into your very genetic code. ” 

He showed them slides of pea plants and fruit flies and taught them how these simple organisms had opened the gateways of scientific knowledge and illuminated the world. 

“Even the tiny beetle is courageous in its struggle for survival.  So nothing is too small or too unimportant to be studied.  Everything holds secrets to the universe. ”  

* * *

 

Hoffstetler arrived in Baltimore and met his team at Occam the next day.  Dr. Wilson was a rotund, excitable man, who let out loud belly laughs after telling jokes that only fellow biologists could appreciate.  A taxonomist who specialized in classifying gobies, Wilson already had extensive theories on possible evolutionary pathways from which the Asset could have descended. 

His other colleague, Dr. Konrad, was a marine biologist by specialty and a realist by nature, curt and precise with very little room for imagination.  Tall, with salt-and-pepper hair and steely gray eyes, his mind seemed to work in rigid configurations.  Hoffstetler surmised by his snide comments that he was bitter that a younger scientist had usurped his position as lead on the project.  Hoffstetler catalogued him as a potential threat. 

However, Konrad’s passive aggression paled in comparison to Strickland.  The man seemed to have some sort of personal vendetta against the Asset.  It reminded Hoffstetler of the work of Georgy Gause, who illuminated the evolutionary battleground that occurs between two species sharing the same environment: “One of the two competitors will always have an ever so slight advantage over the other that leads to the extinction of the second competitor in the long run.”  _Extinction_.  Hoffstelter dreaded it would be the inevitable fate of the Asset if Strickland was successful.  He would have to use everything in his power to counteract him. 

* * *

 

Strickland was shouting again.  His foul mood was so constant that his yelling was now background noise as Hoffstetler attempted to conduct his studies.  He and Wilson exchanged weary glances throughout the tirade.  Strickland was taunting the Asset, getting closer to the chained creature.  The sound of his cattle prod slamming against the edge of the pool echoed throughout the laboratory.

Hoffstelter turned his back and when he turned again, he saw a splash of red. 

There were shouts and gunshots and blood on the floor, flowing from Strickland’s severed fingers and the wound in the Asset’s side.  There was a blur of commotion, and he barely remembered rushing to apply pressure to Strickland’s wounds, then guiding him to medics that whisked him away to a hospital.   

The scientists gathered in the hallway after Strickland had been taken away, none daring to reenter T-4.  Wilson was pale and quiet, shaken by the incident.  Konrad seemed unfazed, recounting his dives to study the mating rituals of tiger sharks in the Pacific. 

“Strickland was careless, if you put your hand inside an animal’s mouth, it will bite.  It is an untamed creature, it cannot be expected to act as a trained circus pet.”  

Wilson shook his head.  “I don’t…I don’t think I’m quite cut out for this.  I’d rather be catching gobies again, at least they don’t bite.”  

No one but Hoffstetler approached the edge of the pool after that.  He could not explain why he was unafraid, but when he looked into the Asset’s eyes, he knew he would not be harmed. 

* * *

 

Hoffstetler requested a meeting with Strickland the next day, on the pretense of announcing Dr. Wilson’s resignation from the project.  In truth, Dimitri was trying to stall him, keep the research on the Asset going for as long as possible.  Hoffstetler took a seat at Strickland’s desk as the man fiddled with a box of neon green candies, popping one into his mouth.    

“How is your hand?”  Hoffstetler motioned with his head toward Strickland’s bandaged digits.

“What do you need today Bob?”  Strickland had no patience for his mechanical niceties, shooting him a terse, thin-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes.      

“After your-“ Hoffstetler paused, searching for the most tactful way to describe the loss of Strickland’s fingers.   “-altercation with the Asset, Dr. Wilson asked to be reassigned.  He had concerns about his personal safety and felt the laboratory procedures were inadequate to ensure his welfare. ” 

“Asked to be reassigned?”  Strickland stared at him incredulously, mouth agape.  “What the hell does he think this is, some high school dance where he can just switch partners whenever he damn well feels like it?”  

“As the lead scientist on this project, I granted his request—“

“You don’t grant anything without my say-so Doc.”  Strickland glared at him, cracking candy between his teeth.  Hoffstetler clenched his jaw to keep from wincing at the sound.  “This is a top-secret project, I don’t hand out security clearances willy-nilly.  Get him back and get him working.”

“It’s counterproductive to force my men to work when they feel they are in danger.  I can’t make progress with unwilling participants, and with General Hoyt’s visit approaching, progress needs to be made.” 

Strickland tensed at the mention of General Hoyt’s name.  Hoffstetler had said the magic words.  He rushed onward, pressing his advantage.

“Since I no longer have the aid of a taxonomist, I need more time to study the Asset.  General Hoyt’s visit must be postponed until I can ascertain certain biological functions that are unique to its species.” 

Strickland’s smile was now predatory.  “No can do, Doc.  We’re on a tight schedule here, and the General does not tolerate delays.  I suggest you get back to work and make progress, even if that means taking a swim with that filthy creature.  Who knows, maybe it’ll even let you keep your toes.”       

Hoffstetler felt a shiver down his spine as he endured the intensity of Strickland’s glare.  He would have to find his own slight advantage over the man if he himself was to avoid elimination.

* * *

 

Everything changed after he saw her with the Asset, palms pressed against the tank.  She was one of the janitors assigned to clean the laboratory, a mousy, brown-haired woman with a dreamy look on her face.  He had watched her dance, then saw her rush over to the waiting creature’s tank like a lover.  

The Asset’s expression was what Dimitri could only describe as pure enchantment. 

He followed her around the facility, making excuses about having to compare lab results with a colleague, or needing to grab a book from his office.  He was determined to find out what made her so special.  She had to be an agent of another government, like him, but she had captivated the Asset in a way that had eluded him.  He could find nothing outwardly apparent, other than her muteness.  Maybe that was only a cover as well, a way she could hide in plain sight.  Dimitri was embarrassed to admit that even he had overlooked her.

Her daily schedule entailed nothing unusual, though she often lingered around the entrance of T-4, gazing at it a little too long every time she passed.  He memorized her lunch breaks and tried to time them with his own.  He hid in the shadows of the laboratory, around corners and behind pipes, watching as she conversed with the Asset in sign language.  He felt like a spy from the movies, his heart pounding and his mind racing as he watched the Asset sign back to her.  A nonhuman creature capable of language! 

The gravity of the realization began to sink in and guilt gnawed at him. It felt intrusive, even voyeuristic, to catalogue such intimate encounters.  He tried to convince himself that his observations were a type of field research, that he was a dispassionate scientist recording his findings.  The truth of the matter was that he felt as though he was committing a crime: against love, against humanity, against his own heart.  The wrongness of it all kept him up at night, staring at the ceiling.   

He brought his concerns to Konrad about the morality of keeping an intelligent creature captive.  “What right do we have to imprison a creature that might have a sense of self, a capacity for understanding its situation?  It would be immoral to continue to study it in such a way.”

Konrad was unimpressed.  “It is an animal, Dr. Hoffstetler.  It resembles a human in form, but I see no evidence it has anything resembling the level of sentience that you ascribe to it.”  

Dimitri clenched his jaw, but said nothing.  He could not reveal the findings of the lonely janitor, running her own experiments in the dark.  He would have to find a way to prove the creature’s intelligence on his own.  

* * *

 

He borrowed a book on sign language from the library and perused it over the weekend, mimicking the shapes clumsily with his own hands.  He chose simple, concrete words, some of which he recognized from the janitor’s conversations.  _Him, her, apple, egg_.  Hoffstetler copied the drawings with their associated words onto notecards, tucking them into the inside of his lab coat like a secret weapon. 

He stayed in the laboratory long after the other researchers had gone home, his paranoia forcing him to check and double check that Strickland and Fleming were both gone.  The Asset seemed to notice his behavior was unusual, its eyes following him as he paced back and forth.  When he was sure the coast was clear, he approached the edge of pool and crouched, pulling up his sleeves and readying his hands.     

_Egg_.  The Asset blinked at him but did not rise from the water.  Hoffstetler repeated the motion, desperately hoping for a response.  _Egg, egg egg_.   He checked the cards to make sure he was signing correctly, feeling like a tourist trying unsuccessfully to converse with the locals.

The Asset spat a stream of water into his face as he was struggling to find another word to sign.   He jerked back as it hit his forehead, the cards dropping to the floor and water dripping into his eye.  Trilling echoed through the laboratory as the creature disappeared under the surface of the pool.  He could have sworn the Asset was laughing at him. 

* * *

 

Even a few days after the Asset’s daring escape from Occam, Dimitri still felt electric, as though adrenaline was coursing through his veins.   

He caught his reflection in the mirror of the lady’s locker room where he hid in the shadows, waiting to speak to the brilliant janitor.  He looked different than he had in the hotel room in Galveston, when he felt so shriveled and used.  Rebellion now burned in his eyes and defiance crept around the corners of his mouth.  He held his chin a little higher and stepped a little lighter.  The possibility that someone would notice the change in him was terrifying, but for the moment he relished the feeling of newfound exhilaration.    

“She said you’re a good man, Dr. Hoffstetler.”  With no words spoken, the remarkable woman had pierced him to the bone. 

A good man?  Not Dr. Hoffstetler, Dimitri thought.  Not the doctor who had participated in the torture of a sentient being.  He had even considered murdering it to further the goals of men who cared nothing for science or truth.  No, Dr. Robert Hoffstetler was not a good man.  But maybe, with a spirit that had found new life, Dimitri Mosenkov could be. 

**Author's Note:**

> -Georgy Gause was a Russian biologist who is known for proposing the competitive exclusion principle, which describes evolutionary speciation and is a foundational principle in ecology. Dimitri probably would have read his book, _The Struggle for Existence_ (1934), for which this fic was named.  
>  -"Years passed...inertia of his heart.": Quote comes from _A Sentimental Education_ by Gustauve Flaubert, which Guillermo del Toro suggested as one of Dimitri's favorite books. 
> 
> Thank you so much for this prompt and thank you so much for reading! As a biology student, Dimitri is my favorite, and it was a pleasure to get in his head.


End file.
